


we might fall

by tumsa



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2013-12-15
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:43:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumsa/pseuds/tumsa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title from  “We Might Fall” by Ryan Star. Written after NRJ awards and events of 15th December. </p><p>"Harry's hands are shaking and Paul is saying something quietly, trying to calm him down. There are people around and Zayn is saying <i>come on, Tomlinson, there is a car for us waiting,</i> but he can’t just walk away like that."</p>
            </blockquote>





	we might fall

**Author's Note:**

> Ryan Star has a song “We Might Fall” and Jason Walker did amazing cover of “Kiss Me” so I blame them for all the sad stuff I write (you should listen to those songs is what I am saying, yes). This is not beta checked, if you find mistakes or know someone who could do beta-reading, let me know. As usual - it's all fiction, I do not know characters involved.

It’s around midnight, they are finally flying back home and Louis is so tired he can feel it in his bones. Zayn and Liam are sleeping in the row in front of him like the dead and Eleanor is asleep as well, cuddled up next to him with a textbook still opened in her hands. She looks as tired as Louis feels and he feels bad for her, knows she planned to study for the whole weekend, and knows how worried she is about failing another year. Louis can hear Niall and Barbara chatting quietly behind him, well at least as quiet as Niall can be, he doesn’t seem to really care that people around him are trying to sleep, Barbara is laughing about whatever Niall is talking about, and Louis feels a pang of jealousy, because they _can_ sit next to each other, laugh and flirt and not care about anything while Louis can’t sit next to Harry even in planes anymore, because, heaven forbid, someone takes a photo of them sitting next to each other.

Harry is not sleeping either; he’s sitting next to Paul who’s snoring quietly against the tiny window, across the aisle and writing something in his journal. After a moment he looks up, feeling Louis’ eyes on him and smiles tiredly that small smile he has reserved for Louis only, the one that makes his eyes shine and Louis' heart skip a beat even after three years, and, god, suddenly Louis wants to cry, because Harry is so fucking strong (while Louis wants to punch walls and break dishes), has been strong and calm since the early morning when they got told about Kendall arriving to London and Eleanor flying to France, but Louis can see the cracks that are slowly showing up, can see how stiff Harry’s shoulders are, how he fakes smiles for cameras and how these smiles drop as soon as the flashlight turns elsewhere, can see how Harry’s thoughts were everywhere but at interviews and an award show today, can see how Niall was frowning when Harry was not laughing about the joke he said, can see how Zayn of all people tried to make Harry laugh (and no, Zayn and Harry are as good friends as anyone else, but Zayn is the type of person who jokes when he wants to joke and not because he wants to impress someone and make them smile), can see Paul frowning and putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder more often than usual, and it makes Louis so angry, so, fucking angry that he could strangle someone, because that was never the plan. He agreed to have a girlfriend for publicity, agreed to play house with Eleanor for another year because they promised nothing like Taylor will happen again, promised Harry won’t get hurt again, and yet here they are, sitting in airplane seats with tiny aisle between them yet it feels like there is an ocean separating them. Louis somewhat smiles back, closes his eyes and pretends to be too tired to talk because he can’t cry in front of Harry, can’t break him even more. Minutes pass yet he can’t hear Harry’s pen scraping against paper, and Louis knows Harry is watching him, and not for the first time he wishes he could just disappear, like Louis not existing would make Harry hurt less.

*

They land smoothly and get to the arrival zone quickly, it’s colder in London than it was in Cannes and sleepiness makes it worse, Louis is fast to follow everyone to get inside the airport, but stops when he hears Paul saying _come on, Harry, we don’t have a whole night._  He can’t hear what Harry replies but sees Paul taking Harry’s luggage and jacket, and making him walk a bit faster.

“Louis,” Eleanor is standing inside, next to the sliding glass doors, she looks so cold and tired that Louis wants to hug her, but he knows better, knows it would break Harry’s heart a little bit more (they can’t hug in airports, they can’t hug on a stage, in hotels and backstages, they can’t hug, because someone could see (and hugging your best friend is a crime these days)), so he just starts walking again until he stands in front of her, waits for her to continue. “You can go home, no paps in the airport,” she says quietly, because there are still people around. “I’ll take a cab, go to my place.”

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, because there’s nothing else he can say. He used to be happy about tiny moments like these, about not needing to hold Eleanor’s hand or kiss her for cameras, about being able sit next to Harry in the car back home, but these days it doesn’t feel enough anymore. It’s not Eleanor’s fault though, so Louis tells her _goodbye_ and _see you tomorrow_ and watches how she walks away. He turns to see that Paul is guiding Harry trough the glass doors, Harry seems lost in his phone, not watching where he walks and stopping so abruptly that Paul almost trips. He regains balance and says  _come on_ , but Harry is standing still, only moves to avoid Paul’s hand landing on his shoulder.

“Did you… Paul, did you know…” Harry says and Louis can see Harry's arms shaking and he’s not sure what to do, there are maybe two meters between him and Harry, there are people around and Zayn is saying _come on, Tomlinson, there is a car waiting for us_ , but he can’t just walk away like that, so he moves a step closer, then another. Paul is saying something quietly, trying to calm Harry down, holding his arm and trying to get them away from the entrance, there are still a few arrived passengers walking inside, and Harry and Paul are blocking their way.

“What’s wrong?” Louis asks as soon as he is standing in front of Harry and Paul, because Harry’s hands are still shaking as he puts his phone away and because Paul actually looks worried and guilty, biting a lip, sighing and letting go of Harry’s arm.

“I have to go to her hotel tonight,” Harry whispers and his voice is shaking more than his hands, and Louis doesn’t care anymore about people (most of them have left arrivals zone anyway), he just grabs Harry’s palms and pulls him closer, wraps his hands around Harry’s shoulders. Harry is shaking, Louis can hear his breath catching, can feel irregular heartbeats, can hear Harry’s voice cracking from trying to hold tears away when he says: “I just want to go to bed, Louis, I want to sleep, I just…”

Louis doesn’t know what to say, because he wants Harry to go to bed too, he wants nothing more than having Harry’s arms wrapped around him while they both doze off, wants to sleep for days and not get out of the bed. But instead he says _it’s okay_ , says _shhhh_ , says _I love you_ , and doesn’t let go of Harry until he feels the breath against his neck being less shaky, until Harry whispers _love you too_.

They step away from each other and start walking again when Paul says _boys, we need to go._  There’s a bathroom before exit doors and they walk in there, Paul still holding Harry’s stuff. They don’t talk much; Harry opens his bag, finds a scarf (and Louis doesn’t ask why), takes out their house keys from a tiny pocket, puts his journal inside the bag. Paul takes it, takes Louis’ bag as well, gives Harry’s black jacket to Louis.

“Louis, you have five minutes and then we’re leaving,” he says and leaves the bathroom. He doesn’t say anything to Harry, but Louis knows that there must be instructions already. A separate car or a cab, a location where Harry has to show up for photos. He doesn’t ask, doesn’t really want to know what the plan is. He unfolds the jacket and holds it so Harry can put it on, it really is cold outside and Louis hopes the jacket and plaid shirt will be enough to keep Harry warm. He’s still sniffling from the cold he got and they have a show to attend next night, and Harry would die a little bit if his voice is not up to its fullest when they are doing X-Factor performance. Louis takes the golden keyring, it feels heavy in his palm, and it’s not like Harry really needs keys when he can just ask Louis to let him in, but it’s a thing they do: whenever Harry has to go out to PR parties and stunts, he takes the key with him, knows there will be photos with it, knows fans will make jokes about _homeless Harry_ owning a set of house keys. It didn’t start like that, but as soon as Harry found out fans speculating about the keys, he took them everywhere. Louis never asked because he knows how important it is to Harry, knows that he hates lying to fans more than anyone else, knows that Harry has grown up and turned tables – their management always used the contract as an excuse, always found some loop holes to use against them, and now Harry does the same – he keeps answering questions about girls gender neutrally, jokes about his homelessness, takes Kendall to a gay bar of all places ( _they said to take her to a bar, I did, Lou, they can’t say I didn’t do what they asked, can they_ ), hints about disliking promotion tweets and about media linking him to girls left and right, and owning house keys is one more thing, because management can’t control that. So Louis attaches the key ring to Harry’s trousers and slips the keys in the back pocket. It almost feels like (a sad) ritual they have.

A middle aged man walks in the bathroom and Harry steps away from Louis, they wait silently for the man to take a piss, wash hands and walk away, it’s obvious he doesn’t care who they are or why are they just standing there, but only when the door closes after him, Harry sighs heavily and hugs Louis. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boo,” he says, and Louis can actually hear a smile in his voice, knows that whatever meltdown Harry had in his head, it’s over. Harry is strong like that, he smiles and says “you make me strong” and “as long as I have you” and “I’m not running” (and Louis writes it all down in a song just so he could see Harry smile when he reads the lyrics), and Louis knows they will get through this, knows that he just needs to sleep and rest, and it’s not going to feel like the end of the world tomorrow.

His phone is buzzing in the pocket, Louis knows without checking it’s Paul, knows that he has to go. He kisses Harry, quickly and sweet, because they are still in public, and leaves without looking back.

*

Louis has no idea what time is it, he went to bed as soon as he got home and fell asleep immediately (and it’s stupid to be upset about it, because he was tired, exhausted, but Louis feels like he should have stayed up or should have felt restless, should not be able to fall asleep without Harry, but after sleeping only a few hours per night and flying back and forth between countries your body doesn’t care about you missing a loved one). It’s completely dark (must be middle of the night) but he can feel Harry slipping beneath a blanket next to him, in their bed, and it doesn’t make sense at all, because Harry is supposed to stay at Kendall’s hotel and he’s not supposed to be at home, and Louis turns to ask what happened, but Harry is quicker, he pulls Louis closer, wraps a warm hand around Louis’ waist and kisses Louis before he can even open his mouth. They kiss slowly, lovingly, pouring all their love into that one kiss, not rushing, not being afraid of getting caught, and Louis can feel Harry smiling against his lips, and a moment later his bursting into giggles.

“Shit, Lou,” he laughs, and Louis rubs his eyes, still sleepy and with no idea what is happening. Harry kisses his cheek, nose, lips again and Louis wants to reach out and turn the light on just so he could see Harry’s smile, he can almost feel the warmth of it. “I just, I couldn’t and…” Harry is still shaking from laughing, “they’re gonna kill me tomorrow. I just walked in the hotel and... well, they never said anything about staying in the e-mail, so I went straight to the kitchen, asked them to let me out of the back, and I swear paps saw it.”

“You’re dead, Hazza,” Louis agrees and he can’t stop smiling now, has to laugh against Harry’s lips. It doesn’t matter that it will not get easier any time soon, not now, not tonight, that it will get harder even, because Harry is smiling, sleeping in _their_ bed and Louis is allowed to kiss him and play with curls of his hair, hold him close and mutter _goodnight_ and _sweet dreams_ and _oh, and_ _I want toast with eggs for breakfast, sweetums_.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything for the last two or three years, but sometimes I have too much feelings about all things Harry and Louis. *sigh*


End file.
